


Trials

by kittybenzedrine



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Depressing, Gen, Minor Character Death, Minor canon divergence, Unspecified Point In Time, sad as fuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2019-01-05 11:41:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12189318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittybenzedrine/pseuds/kittybenzedrine
Summary: The Trial of Grasses was a brutal thing, the greatest pain any Witcher would feel in his life. A harsh memory that most witchers repress. Watching others go through the Trial is nearly an equally unpleasant experience.What follows is just salt in the wound.





	Trials

**Author's Note:**

> Minor divergence in the fact that school of the wolf begins doing the trials again. Though the wiki says the trials are still happening during the events of 3 but I'm not that far in the story yet so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

There are seven boys, loud and boisterous and filling the normally quiet Kaer Morhen with noise. Mostly orphans, one rescued by Eskel from a brutish and heavy handed father. None of the witchers have any interest in mending the old truths of witchers stealing little boys for their own ranks, but none of them particularly go out of their way to take unwilling children either. The noise of the boys is not entirely unwelcome.

The children are loud and rowdy as kids are wont to be. They play rough, get up to mischief. But nobody stops them. They're left to do as they please, to enjoy themselves. The witchers know what is coming and want them to have joy while they still can.

All of them know better, but they get attached. Eskel tuts over his little charge, encouraging the child to break out of his shell and engage with the others more. The child is no longer beaten blue and purple like he was when he arrived, but the emotional scars are still red and raw and evident to even an untrained eye.

Lambert likes the little spitfire of the group, a boy with a prickly personally and a wicked sense of humor. The child is fast witted and has a loud laugh. And he's strong, very capable with a bow and arrow. Undoubtedly would be good when trained with a sword.

Geralt, though he tries to avoid it, ends up growing fond of the littlest of the group. He's six summers old and has a shock of red hair, and a set of big green eyes. Geralt can't remember it too well anymore, but the boy reminds him of what he kind of looked like as a child. Didn't help that the thing is sweet as could be, clings to his leg and babbles about flowers and swords and everything else under the sun. Cries until Geralt picks him up and puts him to bed proper 

Lambert is angry at first, when Geralt brings the first boy there, absolutely livid. The other men know how Lambert feels about turning little boys into witchers, and he's very vocal about it. But there's nothing he can do except leave. The child has no one. So he grits his teeth, and tells all his favorite stories as more boys begin filling empty rooms.

It's welcome when Yennefer visits, though it's just twice. The children adore her, glad to have a kind woman to fuss over them and shower them in affection. She dotes on them and gives them sweets, teaches them little spells and the occasional curse word. They love her, even when she makes them finish their dinner and scolds them to bathe.

She never stays more than a few days each time. In private, she tells Geralt in a soft voice with glistening eyes how much she loves the children, and how she can't bear to grow more attached. She knows what will happen. He agrees, and something in his chest hurts.

 

 

The time comes, as it always does.

All of the boys are scared. The men understand. They were in that position once, in a group of young boys about to enter the unknown. The boys know what is coming, sort of. Given a watered down version as to not terrify them.

They don't warn the children how bad the Trials will hurt. It's no good to tell them, no amount of warning can prepare them for how bad it will hurt.

Each child takes the first dose of the grasses. They drink a hearty spoonful from the pot. It doesn't take effect, not immediately. Gives the witchers time to get out. They don't want to watch.

It doesn't take long for the screaming to start. It doesn't take long for it to end, either.

Two days in, three of the boys have died. Lambert's little spitfire is second to go. He's solemn, temper vanished into thin air, and avoids the other men. Lambert only going down to the lab twice. Once, to help wrap the bodies in sheets. Second, when the second part of the trials begins. The other men give him his space and join him in the lab when the time comes.

The remaining four take the second dose through the vein four days after the first drink. The fourth boy dies less than half a day later, convulsing, nose bleeding, foaming at the mouth, then going still. Geralt is the only one with the stomach to go down to check upon them, and the only one willing to wrap the small bodies in large white sheets. He cleans their sick from the floor, wipes the blood and drool from their faces. Geralt wonders who did it for him, when he was the one in this position.

The fifth day comes. The fifth boy dies much like the forth, choked on his sick and bleeding from the nose. Geralt's favorite and Eskel's little shy ones are the only ones left. He finishes wrapping the fifth up, delicately tucking the sheet under his back, just in time to look up and watch his little redhead let out a shuddering breath.

The child does not take another breath in.

Eskel and Lambert say nothing with Geralt passes silently by them. They avert their eyes when he passes back, another sheet gripped in hand and his face stoney, but his eyes rimmed red.

It's a silent affair as they dig graves. Lambert is fastest, and digs the extra seventh. They all know it's not guaranteed that the last one will survive. It's common for all of the boys to die during the trials. The burials are short, but properly done to give the boys peace. If anything, it's what they deserve.

They hold out a semblance of hope for the final boy. The hope begins to dissipate by seventh day. The trial is only supposed to last for one week, and he does not wake by the eighth. A sheet is ready and waiting by the ninth day. Geralt sits by, waiting to swaddle him and lay him to rest with the others.

But Eskel's little founding opens his eyes. The pupils are like a cat, gray like his eyes can't decide what color they want to be.

Geralt wraps him in the sheet, small, sweaty body sticking to the white fabric. He carries the boy to the others, who scramble to prepare a bath and fresh clothes. A kind welcome back for all the suffering the child had to endure.

They welcome the new witcher into the fold, and quietly mourn a while longer for the lost children.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are always appreciated!
> 
> I have [my blog](http://iwillpooponthefloor.tumblr.com) on tumblr, if you'd like to check that out.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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